The moment when Danny had looked into her eyes as he’d moved inside her—that was what would stay with her forever. The connection couldn’t last—it would be like trying to hold on to a snap of static electricity—but the memory of it, of that swell in her heart and the feeling that for a brief second she wasn’t alone, was wonderful.
Rising from the bed, she visited the bathroom and brushed her teeth, attempted to tame her hair into a braid, then pulled on some clothes and wandered along the corridor into the kitchen.
Pausing in the doorway, she viewed the scene, smiling as a glow spread through her. Wearing only his jeans, bare-chested and barefoot and looking like a god, Danny was in the process of pouring steaming coffee from a plunger into two cups, humming as he did so. An old song by the sound of it.
“Seriously?” she said, walking into the room. “Barry White?”
He looked over his shoulder in surprise, ran his gaze down her, then grinned. “We’ve got it together, baby.” His husky voice sent a shiver down her spine.
“Good morning,” she said, accepting a mug of the coffee.
“Good morning.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close, and kissed her. “Did you miss me?”
“I did. I thought you were a figment of my imagination for a moment.”
“Nah. Real as. Just thirsty.”
She followed him outside to the deck where they sat in the early morning sun.
“I like the outfit,” he said.
She looked down at herself. She wore his shirt, loosely buttoned, which fell halfway down her thighs. “I’ve always wanted to wear a guy’s shirt after having sex.”
“It looks good on you.”
She smiled. “I can’t believe it’s morning already. You told me you weren’t going to let me sleep! I’m disappointed.”
He sipped his coffee, his eyes twinkling over the rim of the mug. “Twice in one night not enough for you? Jeez. Now who’s insatiable?”
“I have to make the most of you while I have you.” She poked him with her toe.
He leaned back and stretched out his legs. The muscles of his torso and arms gleamed in the sun. He wouldn’t have looked out of place on a fireman’s calendar. She wiped beneath her bottom lip to make sure she wasn’t drooling.
“So you weren’t disappointed then?” he teased.
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re kidding me!”
“No. I’m hardly Casanova.”
“Danny, I had a wonderful time. Much better than I’d hoped. In fact, I was thinking—” She stopped speaking as, in the living room, her phone jangled to announce an incoming call. “Sorry. Excuse me.” She put down her coffee and went into the living room.
Picking up the phone, she checked the screen, expecting it to be one of her parents, who occasionally called her in their evening. Instead, though, the display said Richard.
“Fuck.” She bit her lip as the word tumbled out. Danny was starting to rub off on her.
Should she ignore it? Did she have the balls to answer it when another man was sitting only ten feet away from her? But if she didn’t, he’d only call every five minutes, declaring he was worried about her, and if she switched off the phone it would only look suspicious.
She swiped her finger across the screen and answered it. “Hello?”
“Herm? It’s Richard.”
“Hi. How are you?” She saw Danny watching her as he drank his coffee, and turned and walked across the living room to the opposite window.
“Good,” he said. “How are things on the other side of the world?”
“Yes, okay thanks. I’m not doing much—having a bit of a holiday really. A good rest.” Her cheeks warmed as she thought of the action she’d gotten the night before, and she closed her eyes briefly.
“That’s good, I’m sure you’ll come back the better for it. Hey, look, Bill’s asked me to call you. I hope you don’t mind.”
She gritted her teeth. She hated the way he called her father Bill—everyone in the family called him William, but unfortunately her father seemed to think it meant he had some kind of close relationship with his future son-in-law, so he never complained. “Not at all.”
“Great. We were talking last night with the mayor about holding next year’s summer gala in the gardens here because the town green’s being renovated, and your dad said maybe it would be a good idea for us to fix a date. You know, for the wedding. So that we can plan the gala around it.”
Hermione put a hand on the window to steady herself. Of all the times... It was the first mention anyone had made of fixing a date for their big day. She knew she’d been lucky to get as far as she had without them making plans. First she’d said she wanted to wait until she’d finished university, then she’d managed another couple of years’ reprieve by saying she wanted to get her business up and running. But she’d known they wouldn’t wait forever.
“I...” She couldn’t think what to say.
“I was thinking maybe mid-June? That would mean we could have the gala in July and we wouldn’t have to worry about everyone destroying the grass for the wedding photos.”
“Yes,” she said faintly. “That sounds sensible.”
“I’m sorry to mention it over the phone, but Bill said he wanted to let the mayor have a date, and besides, there will be a lot of organization to do over the year, won’t there? I’m sure you’ll be in your element.”
“Yes,” she said, feeling nauseous. “Perhaps we could...” She trailed off as, in the background, she heard a woman’s voice calling for him, as if from another room. “Who was that?”
“Who was what?”
“I heard a woman say something.”
“Oh. It’s Pippa. Keeping me company, as you’re not here.”
Her middle sister. Hermione bit her lip. Richard and Pippa had always gotten on well. She knew they met up in London occasionally to go to a show or for a drink. It was eight in the evening in the UK, and it didn’t sound as if he was in a pub or a nightclub, so she guessed they were at Pippa’s flat in London. “Are you alone there with her?”
“Yeah. We’re just having a drink. So look, what do you think? June?”
“Yes. That’s fine.”
“Great. I’ll let Bill know.” He paused. “Are you okay?”
Against her will, Hermione’s eyes filled with tears. Not because she was angry at being betrayed, but because she wasn’t. She didn’t care that he was with Pippa, and now, after everything she’d had with Danny, she knew that was wrong. She didn’t love Richard. She didn’t know if she ever would, and suddenly all her plans about creating romance and magic between them seemed foolish.
She was going to commit herself to this guy that she didn’t love for the rest of her life. How stupid was that?
She couldn’t say anything. She needed time to think about it, because there had always been more at stake than romance, and just like Danny with his father, she had responsibilities that she couldn’t throw away because she felt like it.
“I’m fine,” she said. “It’s early here. I haven’t quite woken up yet.”
“Oh of course, I forgot. What is it, seven? Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“What are you wearing?”
Hermione’s jaw dropped. For a start, she was wearing another man’s shirt, and secondly, Richard had never asked her anything so personal before. Even though they were supposed to be getting married and they’d talked about it often, he’d never made any reference to the physical relationship they would be having.
Her face flamed. “Um...a nightie.”
“Nice,” he said. “What color?”
“Richard...please.” She couldn’t do that kind of talk with him.
He laughed. “Okay. Speak to you later.” He hung up.
She threw her phone onto the sofa, trembling.
“Hey.” Danny came in, put his coffee mug on the kitchen table, and walked over to her. “What’s up? Who was it?”
She wrapped her arm
s around her waist and shook her head.
“Was it Richard?”
Tears pricked her eyes, and she pressed a hand to her lips.
“Aw. Come here.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her.
Hermione fought against the need to dissolve into tears. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, because he would just say she shouldn’t marry Richard, and she didn’t want to have that argument with him. But she couldn’t fight the overwhelming feeling of despair that was settling over her.
Danny kissed the top of her head. “I’m so sorry. Do you want me to go?”
“No. Please stay.”
“Okay.” He rubbed her back.
She rested her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes. He smelled wonderful, of a manly aftershave or body wash. His arms around her made her feel safe and secure. If only she could stay like this forever.
His hands skirted down over her hips, and he moved back a little and raised an eyebrow. “What are you wearing beneath my shirt?”
She rubbed her nose. “See for yourself.”
His lips curving, he undid a couple of buttons and parted the sides of the shirt. A helpless look came over his face as he saw the silky teddy beneath it. “Jesus. You’ll be the death of me.”
She gave a little laugh and placed her hands on his chest. Richard was with another woman, so why shouldn’t she have some fun with someone else? She thought about the uncomfortable feeling he’d given her when he’d asked her what she was wearing. Now she knew what truly went on between a couple in the bedroom, and how it felt to be so intimate... Could she really let Richard do those things to her?
She pushed the notion away and looked up at the man before her, whose eyes had darkened with desire. After shaking the shirt off her shoulders, she let it fall to the floor and leaned back against the kitchen worktop, conscious of her lace-covered breasts rising and falling with each breath.
“You were so kind to me last night,” she said as his gaze slid down her, heating her up from the inside out. “You made love to me, and that was wonderful, and I really appreciate you being gentle. But I need to know what it’s like to...you know...”
“Fuck?”
“Yes.” A thrill went through her. He understood. “Take me, Danny, hard as you like. Show me what I’ve been missing.”
Chapter Twenty
Danny hesitated. Not because Hermione’s words didn’t fire him up. He wanted nothing more than to throw her onto the kitchen table and plunge inside her again. But the reason why she’d asked him to do it gave him pause.
What the hell had Richard said to her? Danny wanted her to talk to him, to tell him what was bothering her, but he wasn’t her boyfriend—he wasn’t even her friend, not really. They’d gotten together out of shared lust, and he couldn’t expect her to blurt out her every thought and feeling just because he demanded it.
She was with him because she wanted to forget that other life. Neither of them had ever pretended this was anything other than temporary, a way for them to escape their duties and responsibilities. If he had the power to help her do that, why should he hold back?
She was upset because he was beginning to show her what real passion could feel like. If it made her think twice about marrying that idiot back in England, then it was a good thing. She wanted him to show her what happened when making love turned into hot sex, and he was more than happy to oblige.
Keeping his eyes on hers, not smiling, he moved forward. She blinked and instinctively backed away, but after a few inches her hips met the kitchen worktop, and she stopped with a bump.
Danny continued to move forward until his body pressed against hers. Leaning on the edge of the worktop on either side of her, he imprisoned her in the circle of his arms.
She swallowed, eyes wide, hopeful, excited, and a little nervous all at once.
“You want me to fuck you?” he said, dropping his head to touch his lips to hers.
She cleared her throat and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Um...yes. Please.”
“So British,” he murmured. “So polite.” He placed soft kisses up her jaw and around to her ear. “You should be careful what you wish for.”
She shivered, and he felt her nipples peaking against his chest through the lacy teddy she was wearing. “Why?”
“Because some men would take advantage of a request like that.” He trailed his tongue around her ear and then sucked the lobe.
She tucked her hands behind her bottom, tipping her head to the side when he kissed down her neck. “What do you mean?”
He kissed back around to her mouth. “Some men would just turn you around and fuck you hard without any thought to your pleasure.”
Her lips parted, her chest rising and falling quickly with her rapid breaths.
“You wouldn’t want that, would you?” He skimmed his hands up her sides to her breasts. Her nipples stood out through the teddy like buttons, and when he brushed them, her breath hitched.
She still didn’t answer, turned speechless by his words.
“What’s the matter, Hermione?” He took each nipple between thumb and forefinger and tugged. “Are you beginning to realize that secret power you have as a woman?”
A moan escaped her, and she bit her bottom lip.
“Are you realizing how saying things like ‘fuck me’ to a man is like setting a match to a fuse?” He continued to tug and stroke her nipples, and she arched her spine, tipping back her head and pushing her breasts toward him.
Dropping a hand, he slid it down her stomach to between her legs, brushing over the silky fabric even as he continued to play with her nipple. “There’s me thinking this elegant lady would be satisfied with some gentle lovemaking,” he teased, circling his fingers over her clit. “I didn’t realize that wouldn’t be enough for you.”
She lifted her head to look at him, her pupils huge. “It’s not that it’s not enough...”
Moving his hand behind her, he grasped her braid and pulled it, forcing her head back. She gasped, her lips parting, eyes widening.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said, nudging her legs apart with one knee. “I’d much rather know you like it rough.”
Her expression turned wry and she went to say something, but he crushed his lips to hers, stopping her words as he plunged his tongue into her mouth. He moved back briefly to lick his fingers, then kissed her again as he moved the silky fabric of the teddy to one side and slipped his wet fingers into her folds.
She tried to speak, but it came out muffled against his mouth, Ignoring it, he stroked down to her entrance and slid his fingers inside her.
“Mmph!” She placed both hands on his chest, but he continued to stroke her, bringing moisture up so he could tease her clit, and she panted against his mouth. “Danny!” she said when he eventually lifted his head.
“What?” He felt a surge of feral desire at the sight of her lips, red and swollen from his kisses, and the strands of hair that had loosened from her braid falling around her face.
“I...oh God...” She closed her eyes, and he increased the pressure on the swelling button between her legs, loving that he was turning her on.
“Yeah,” he said. “You want it rough, you got it, baby.” He kissed her, hard, wondering if at any point he was going to scare her, but she just opened her mouth to him and slid her hands into his hair, clenching her fingers in the short strands. She was enjoying it, her body arching toward his, responding to his touch, and he groaned his approval.
Their kisses grew wilder as passion built between them, both of them hungry for each other, demanding, gasping for breath. Eventually Danny moved back. Holding her arms, he turned her around and pushed her forward, against the worktop.
“Oh!” She steadied herself and looked over her shoulder, eyes ablaze.
He nudged her legs open and then forced them wider with his feet, unzipped his jeans, and released the very eager erection from his briefs that was desperate to sink into her. Luckily
he had a condom in his pocket, and he rolled it on in double-quick time, pulled the teddy to one side, and slid the tip of his erection into her slippery, swollen folds.
There he paused and leaned forward, pressing his lips to her neck. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he said softly. “Hard as I like, wasn’t that what you said?” Taking the ribbon straps of her teddy in his fingers, he pulled them down, peeling the silky fabric back and exposing her breasts.
She didn’t say anything, breathing hard.
He wound her braid around his hand and pulled her head back, putting his lips close to her ear, then place a soft kiss there. “Answer me.”
Still she didn’t say anything, and he paused. “Hermione, this is just play, okay?”
She moistened her lips. “Okay.”
He slid an arm around her and hugged her. “I mean it. Tell me you want me to stop, and I’ll stop. At any time.”
She looked over her shoulder at him, meeting his gaze, and her eyes were filled with affection and excitement. “I understand. I want this, Danny. Don’t stop.”
His heart thudded, desire racing through him. She lifted a hand as if she was going to try and remove his grip on her braid, but he caught her wrist, turned her arm, and pulled her hand behind her back.
She squealed as her bare breasts met the cold worktop. He made himself blow out a slow breath, holding back. He wanted her to enjoy the experience of rough and exciting sex, but he didn’t want to hurt or scare her. Pushing his hips forward firmly, without being too hard as he knew she might still be sore from the day before, he slid inside her.
“Ahhh...”
Still holding on to her braid, he tilted his head to watch her close her eyes in bliss. “Is that nice, Your Grace?”
“Danny...”
He moved back and thrust forward again, and again, moving harder and faster once he was well lubricated and knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
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